


Wanda's World

by AmazonX



Series: Scarlet Universe [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel, Marvel 616, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Clint is a kid, Darcy is a bamf, F/M, Happy and Jarvis rule, Phil is not happy, Steve is in charge, Tony is a yenta, Wanda finally gets what she wants
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-13
Updated: 2013-09-13
Packaged: 2017-12-26 10:25:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/964846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmazonX/pseuds/AmazonX
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When an accident in the lab affects one of the Avengers adversely, only a former agent can make it right. But not before she has something she knows she has to give up, to give to someone who really deserves it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was actually the first story I started writing in the Avengers fandom, but trust me, while you may think it can be out of character (it's not), it's going to be awesome. And it starts a universe I want to expand on. I don't do WIPs, but I will write the next bit quicker than I have. Thank you to Emyrldlady for the most awesome fucking beta ever. She kicks my ass, and that makes the story better for you all!

“Are you a good witch or a bad witch?”

The words were sweet, but they made Clint laugh out loud, and made Coulson smile a bit as well.

The week had started quietly, with a regular morning meeting, with Phil Coulson actually complimenting the team on their work at being proactive and patrolling their sectors to monitor for potential threats without causing world panic. People were used to seeing Iron Man or Thor flying about, and Captain America on his motorcycle. Clint and Natasha were far more insulated in their Quinjet, but they were out there just as much.

Meanwhile, back in the lab, Darcy had settled beside Jane at her computer, with Bruce and Tony also working on the Bifrost objective, so that the realms were all connected once more, so the need for the Tesseract would cease and it could be hidden in the Asgardian vault once again. Erik Selvig was behind a desk, typing furiously on his keyboard. He watched the calculations fall into place, frowning, he took his glasses off to walk over to the “Science Bros” as Darcy called Bruce and Tony.

“Gentlemen, this isn’t going to work. This is a level of quantum physics that I don’t think anyone was meant to achieve without more advanced technology.” His words fell on deaf ears as Tony grunted in response pulled an older Iron Man mask outfitted into a welding mask over his face. Bruce walked behind the large piece of equipment a few yards away, working with a small soldering gun to affix another motherboard to it.

Selvig continued to monitor the readings coming off the equipment as the work continued on one of the many Starkpads in the lab.

“You know, the array doesn’t seem like it would control space as much as time…” Selvig droned on explaining the errors he'd found to an overtired Jane. But Darcy became distracted, it wasn't like she'd be able to contribute anyway, but it seemed like she was the only one who heard the beeping. It was low and slow, nothing alarming, but still annoying. Darcy looked around for its source. It was at the very old terminal across the lab, sitting on its own by the wall. It was incongruous in the room of some of the highest tech on the bleeding edge. It was left over from Jane’s cobbled together equipment, an old Commodore Pet found in a computer graveyard. Tony hadn’t gotten around to upgrading it to a Stark tablet, since he enjoyed using his blow torch too much to make the housing of the laser lens and light generator.

The set up for the terminal was several yards away, against the most solid wall so that it wouldn’t make any noise that would bother anyone. To keep an eye on everything, a catwalk was installed around the perimeter of the room. It was for Hawkeye, because Clint Barton was not to be denied watching the freaky science stuff, but he wanted to make sure if Loki figured out a way to come back, or something else came through, he would be able to get shots off at the mark first. 

“Someone should get that,” Darcy said. No one looked at her or the terminal. Eyes rolled and travel mug slammed on her desk, Darcy decided it was her responsibility to check, being the resident geek assistant. What she didn’t count on was everything else happening at the speed of light.

The floor began to rumble and the array in the middle of the floor, flashing lights and throwing sparks as well, began emitting a very screechy sound that didn’t sound very healthy for it. Darcy tried to stop the process, but not knowing what Tony did to start it, she started pressing any key combination on the terminal, then just mashing on the keys.

Vibrations went through the array and Bruce made for where Tony was lying under it to pull him by his legs across the room. This triggered the tipping over of the array on its side, causing the laser for making the wormhole to point straight at Darcy. Selvig had pulled Jane away, but not before she screamed out for Darcy.

Without hesitation, Hawkeye leapt into action, jumping straight down the 25 feet or so from his perch, to shove Darcy to the side. She tumbled over and crashed into a solid table leg. “Godammit!” she shouted, turning to focus her rage on whomever it was that caused her to get ANOTHER bruise on her body from this crazy place.

The array was glowing and its blue light from the modified laser sight was point straight at Clint. Or what was Clint a moment ago, and was now a pile of clothing under the level of the emitted light. Tony and Bruce were already there, pulling the circuit board to shut down the process. But it was too late. Damage was done and when Darcy finally looked up, after the array was off, Bruce and Tony were standing and looking down at a pile of clothes, and Jane was kneeling down to look through it. Selvig brought up the rear and breathed, “Oh my God.”

Two of the biggest blue eyes stared back at everyone, followed by two full pink lips that pressed together tightly. Those big eyes began to narrow and Jane sat back, away from the boy.

“What the actual fuck?” Darcy asked, crawling over to the pile. “And you’re naked. Well, isn’t this…something?”

“Goddammit,” Tony muttered as well, walking away from the gathering huddle. “JARVIS!”

“Yes, sir,” came the calm voice of the robot in the ceiling, or wherever he was. The AI that ran most things for Stark’s life was eerily always available.

“Alert Agent Coulson we have a…situation. And alert Director Fury. And get Pepper down here, please. And…um…call Agent Redhot. She’ll need to see this, too.”

Darcy had sat beside the little boy who had folded his arms and set his face as frown as Tony was barking orders. “Hey, little man, don’t be angry. Here, put this t-shirt…ok, that’s too big. Hey, Erik, hand me the sweater from my chair?” she called out. Selvig gave her the garment in which she quickly swathed the little boy before sitting back and leaving him to himself.

“Stark! What is going on?” Coulson asked, walking into the room. “And who is this child?”

Tony pointed at the child sitting on the ground. “This, for all intents and purposes, is Clint Barton, agent of SHIELD.”


	2. Chapter 2

After a call from Tony, Pepper had an assistant go out for appropriate-sized clothing while Darcy was the one to carry Clint up to the medical quarters for a full physical. He was not happy, but because he always liked Darcy, and was happy to be cuddled to her impressive rack, he allowed it. The doctor on call had done two full rotations in pediatrics before signing on with SHIELD, which Coulson found very lucky. He also figured that the woman was hired because she was a relative of someone on staff, because why would a person going into pediatrics suddenly want to work for a not-so-secret-anymore government agency after a massive alien battle in New York City. She probably had an adrenalin fetish somewhere.

“Age-wise, I ascertained he’s about 4 years old. He’s still in good health, as was his last departmental physical. I pulled up Agent Barton’s medical file, checked the retinas and I’ve taken a swab from his mouth for DNA testing. His eyes match, though. I’m almost positive the DNA will, as well. His heart rate, blood pressure and breathing all sound fine. I don’t want to try and take blood, because he seems very annoyed and angry. I think that Darcy here is helping a lot.” Darcy stood by little Clint talking to him, not like a 4-year-old but like she always did, trying to get him to speak.

“Where is he!” came the shout from down the hall. Usually, Natasha Romanov was as silent as a summer breeze before entering a space, knowing surprise was an important asset. But when her best friend was in danger, there was no stopping her on a mission. She burst into the room and looked down at the little boy that Darcy had just finished helping dress in his new, well-fitting clothes.

“Is this Barton?” she asked, quietly. The little boy turned his head and looked up at her, a smile bursting out of his face, brightening up his whole being.

“Tasha!” he said loudly. He held out his arms to her and she didn’t hesitate a moment in scooping him up and hugging him tight. “Thank God! Where were you?”

“I was working, sweetie. Are you hurt?”

“Sweetie? Who’re you talkin’ to?” he asked. He gave her a skeptical look.

“So, you’re still in there.” She ran a hand through his hair. “And man, you are BLOND!”

“Keep your hands to yourself, Ginger, and put me down!”

The smile that spread across her face brought one to Clint’s and the air in the room became noticeably lighter.

“Now that you have everything under control, Agent Romanov, I’m confident I can leave Barton’s care in your hands. And Darcy’s as well. I have a few calls to make. I’ll contact you later. And everyone is locked down to the tower until I give the all clear.”

Coulson left the room quickly, pulling his phone out to start working on a solution. Outside the building, there was a crash of thunder. 

“Uh oh, Thor’s home,” came the alert from Darcy. “Well, who’s hungry? I could go for some…hmm…”

“Sushi!” Clint shouted.

“Maybe something easier, like mac and cheese,” said Darcy. Natasha put down her partner and they made their way up to the large group kitchen where the Avengers could cook larger meals if they wanted. Of course, each had their own small kitchenettes, but the group kitchen was kept stocked for food, while their own apartments were their own responsibilities. 

In the large, mostly stainless steel and soapstone kitchen, Darcy was making macaroni and cheese from a blue box, while Natasha watched as Clint let both hands fly on his Stark tablet, checking his email and a couple of joke blogs he followed.

“How do you know that?” Natasha asked.

“Know what?” Darcy asked, mixing the cheese pack ingredients.

“How to handle a child so easily?”

“My dad is fertile. My parents split when I was ten. Mom stayed single, but Dad…I think he was having an affair. They got married six months after the divorce was final, and I have two little brothers and a little sister. Summers I spent with them, so I can do diapers, potty training and feeding. Thankfully, he’s like four. So, I’m pretty confident he can whiz on his own. I just hope we don’t…”

“Uh oh…” Clint said, then started looking around.

“Come on, I’ll help you,” Darcy said. She grabbed his hand and they ran to the large community restroom. She stopped realizing the boy was too short to reach the toilet. “Shit…uh…shoot, hey, wait a minute, lemme get a step stool or something.”

Darcy ran out of the bathroom looking for something to boost the boy up to the right height. At her Dad’s house, the kids had their own bathroom with a step stool in place, but where the hell did she last see it? Finally, grabbing a stool for the kitchen bar, she ran back to the bathroom, hoping Clint hadn’t wet himself, when she opened the door and saw him standing on the toilet, seat up, balancing on the rim and relieving himself.

“Close the door!” he yelled, scaring Darcy. She jumped back and let the door close on its own. She stepped back and waited for Clint. Of course, he didn’t come out, he yelled, “I can’t reach the fucking sink!”

Darcy smiled. Yeah, Clint was in there.

When they’d finished, with Darcy leaving the stool in the bathroom, he led her back to the kitchen, where he climbed back up on the counter and waited for lunch.

“Look, you saw my junk once already. Don’t think cuz I’m little that you’re allowed to get all handsy on me!” Clint said, emphatically. “Women…”

Darcy and Natasha looked at each other and laughed.

“This is funny?” he asked, pounding a chubby little fist on the stainless steel counter.

“Look, Hawk, we’re not used to your big mouth in this little face. If I didn’t have step-ankle-biters, I’d be risking my life to pinch your cheeks. You’re freakin’ sweet!”

“Where is Barton?” came the godly bellow from the entrance to the common area.

“In the kitchen!” called Darcy, back at the stove to finish the mac and cheese. A large presence filled the doorway. Clint looked up from the Starkpad he was using to regard his teammate.

“Hey, Goldilocks, how hangs the hammer?” he asked, then went back to checking his email.

“This is Clint?” the big man asked, walking over to the counter. He’d stopped by his floor to greet Jane, which was why he was so long between arriving in Midgard and arriving in the kitchen, and his wet hair showed the after shower, but he’d wanted to remove his “battle gear” as well.

“Who’d you think it was? A frost midget?” Darcy said. “Are there frost midgets?”

“Yes, they are called babies. How did this happen?”

“It’s cuz your girl needs to get it more often than she has been,” Clint complained.

“Like I said in the lab, and in the infirmary, I’m sorry, Clint,” Jane said. “Besides, we don’t even know I’m the one to blame, do we?”

“Tell your story walking, lady,” Clint remarked, then turned away.

“You would do well to watch your tongue, little one, no matter teammate or not,” Thor commanded. 

“Fuck you, winghead!” Clint shouted, standing on the counter, fists up to fight and face turning a bright shade of red.

“That’ll be enough of language like that, Barton,” Steve Rogers said. “Especially in front of ladies.”

“Oh, sorry, Cap, I forgot you don’t swear. Pardon the hell out of me!”

“I do, but when it calls for it. Not in the middle of a conversation. Now, apologize to the ladies, and let’s start thinking about reversing this…process.”

Clint stamped his foot on the counter. It was difficult to stay angry at an adorable toddler who was wearing a Hawkeye t-shirt and Avengers light-up sneakers. But Steve did his best. He nodded to Natasha, said hello to Jane and then a quick, blushing hello to Darcy.

“Well?”

“I’m sorry for cursing, ladies.”

“Should I make more mac and cheese?” Darcy asked, knowing Steve’s voracious appetite only mirrored Thor’s. “Or like, can we order pizza? Cuz, I don’t think we have more than two more boxes.”

“Both!” boomed Thor. His honest smile crossed his face again. Steve sighed in relief.  
That night, Natasha insisted on Clint spending his first night in her suite. They shared a floor in the Avengers tower, which Clint thought was fine for him to be able to stay in his own room.

“Indulge me, would you? I let you shower alone.”

“Yeah, and you had to turn the water on and off! Look, this…” Clint stopped abruptly and kicked the wall beside the door. “This sucks! I hate it! I don’t want to be little again!”

“Some people would trade anything to do their lives over again,” she said, quietly.

Clint was quiet a moment. “Yeah, I know, but I don’t have my brother. Until we got separated, I was mostly OK. Then…”

“I know. I felt exactly like that, alone and scared. And then you reached out, gave me someone to stand beside. I wasn’t alone anymore. I won’t leave you alone.”

Clint didn’t count on having the emotional control of a four year old as well as the body, and ran to Natasha, jumping on the bed and into her arms, trying not to cry. They both took a deep breath before slipping under the covers to try and get some rest.


	3. Chapter 3

The next morning, Clint awoke and rubbed his eyes, looking at his surroundings. The first thing he noticed was he had an incredible urge to pee, stronger than usual. He jumped up and ran to the bathroom, and everything from the day before came rushing back to him in a huge wave. He performed the same trick as the day before, standing on the toilet seat, then was thankful Nat’s sink was so close to it. He climbed on the sink to wash his hands and face. When he walked out, he figured the flush woke her because she was standing up and looking at him strangely.

“You can manage that yourself?” she asked.

“Yes, for many years. Hungry,” was all he said next and started for her suite door. He wasn’t going to play around with the teeny kitchenette in Natasha’s rooms, because she never kept more than some munchies, beer, vodka and Gatorade. If Clint was going to be a kid, he damn well wanted Lucky Charms for breakfast.

In the kitchen, Darcy sat with Jane, who looked sadly at Clint.

“Yeah, just get me back, OK?” was all he said. He did notice there was a set of rolling stairs in the kitchen, movable yet able to park so Clint could get to the counters and into the cabinets, which he used liberally to serve himself breakfast. There was also a taller stool at the island counter bar, so he could sit like everyone else. He had an idea in his head who had made the calculations and who actually made the modifications on the room.

When he was finished, he put his dish in the sink and started toward the elevator. He was tall enough to hit the up button, but when he got inside, a small steel stepstool was added to match the décor so he could reach his floor button. In his suite, he saw the modifications for things were all the same, stepstools or ladders in all the rooms. His bathroom was the most changed. There was a stepstool attached for the sink, little stairs to the toilet and a toilet seat for kids, with the Hulk’s face on it. Clint didn’t know whether to laugh or take it out for target practice. He saw the shower stall had been modified with a steel ladder to the water knobs and a lower showerhead just for him. And a shorter towel bar was added. And he even had a smaller toothbrush, but it was a Hawkeye toothbrush, thankfully. 

“Stark is marketing the shit out of us, isn’t he?” He used his bathroom to wash up, enjoying feeling almost like nothing was wrong because everything was his height, within reach, and there was nothing patronizing about it. It just so happened that Clint shrunk, was all. And the suite was adjusted to accommodate that. He knew exactly who was to thank for all the hard work fixing these things around the suite and the building, and how he had to appreciate the man.

“Hey JARVIS?” he called out.

“Yes, sir?” the AI asked.

“Thanks for all this. And record this for Happy please? Happy, thank you, man. When I’m me again, we’re going for poker and strippers in Vegas.”

“As you wish, sir.”

And when the little toweled boy went to his bedroom, he found a youth-sized bureau and it was full of clothes. A lot of things looked like they were play clothes, or very comfortable. Not a lot of black, but there were only so many choices for kids in colors nowadays, unless they’re wearing the really expensive designer stuff. And that wasn’t Clint’s style, unless he was on a date. There was a whole set of Avengers t-shirts, which he laughed at. He pulled a Hawkeye shirt on and some jeans, then got annoyed that there were no boots. So he put the flashy sneakers on from the day before and grabbed a kid-sized leather jacket. There was even a very small full-sized mirror for him. He looked at himself and sighed.

“Well, this is the best I’m going to get.”

For three days, Clint stomped around the tower in pure frustration and anger. By the end of day two, Natasha was determined to find a child’s compound bow for him, something for him to use to take the edge off his anger. Most were far too big for him, in the few archery specialty shops in Manhattan. But this WAS New York, and if you couldn’t find it there, it didn’t exist. She did find a shop, in the Bronx of all places, that did have one bow that was small enough. Yes, it was red, because it was meant for a girl, but being that Clint was so small, it would work. She bought the store out of youth-sized arrows and made her way back. That night, Clint exhausted himself by shooting all of the stuffed animals that Tony had sent him. One arrived every hour of the day and night. Clint refused to become a Brony.

On the fourth day, when everyone was beginning to become resigned that this was Clint’s permanent state, Coulson called a meeting in the common kitchen area. He had lunch brought in, which Darcy was thankful for. She’d gotten tasked with trying to keep up with Clint, who did NOT want a babysitter. She didn’t need another day of him complaining about Spaghetti-Os, even though he ate them with abandon as an adult.

“Look, I hate this just as much as you, dude, but you know what? You’re not physically what you were. In your head, you’re all Clint, no doubt about it. But outside, you’re Romper Room. So get over it. Jane, Tony and Bruce haven’t slept for three days trying to fix you. I can’t even drag one away for their mandatory 40 winks, so just chill for like a day, yeah?”

Usually, Darcy was cool with Clint. They were prank buddies. But this showed Clint just how upset even she was, since she would never have gotten so exasperated with him before. He put his head down and tried to fight the four-year-old’s emotions running through him, when there was a voice from behind him that brought him back to the present, and happily to the past.

“Who’s yelling at my Clint?” said a woman, who walked into the communal kitchen and stood before everyone. She was average height and weight, but had a beautiful full head of long, curly auburn hair. Her eyes were bright green, full of mirth and happiness. Her age was indeterminate. She could have been twenty-something or forty-something. She was followed by Coulson who was reading something on his phone.

“Wanda!” shouted Clint, who jumped up from where he sat and ran across the island tabletop and into her arms, leaping off the counter at her. She caught him like a pro, making Steve think she had other kids.

“Hello, sweetie, my goodness, you were such a gorgeous kid! I mean, you’re gorgeous anyway, but all this blond hair, and these eyes, I swear, I wish you were mine!” She hugged Clint tightly, and eliciting a little squeak when she hugged a little too hard. “I’m sorry, Pteech-ka, I just missed you so.” She followed this by pressing kisses to his cheeks and forehead.

The other members of the Avengers stood, including Thor who had brought up Bruce and Tony (who could get them away from the work, forcibly), and waited for explanation.

“Everyone,” began Coulson, “This is Wanda Maximoff, an agent of SHIELD, reserve, code name Scarlet Witch.”

“Are you a good witch, or a bad witch?” Steve joked. He smiled widely at her, happy to finally get in on the fun.

“That depends on whom I’m addressing. And how close I am to…certain people.” She looked down at Clint, then back at Coulson with a conspiratorial smirk. “Really, I use all powers at my disposal to keep the universe as safe as I can. It’s easier on me, and less paperwork. Phil asked me to come and see if there wasn’t something I can do to help out. The wonderful doctors are at a loss, sadly.”

“I wouldn’t say a loss, Agent Maximoff, or Witchypoo or whatever you call yourself…”

“Stark,” came the throaty warning from the Captain.

“No, Captain, let him. He’s angry with me, aren’t you? Because he thinks his father loved me and I would have broken up his family.”

All heads turned.

“Really?” said Thor. “Midgard has as many scandals as my own home, does it not?”

“Oh, I would never have ruined Maria’s home. I had my own…issues at the time. And meanwhile, we’re not here for me, or to dredge up old fights, are we, Tony? You can hurl insults at me after you show me your fabulous machine.”

“Um, I should do that, really, Ms. Maximoff. Agent?” said Bruce, rubbing his eyes.

“Dr. Banner, I’m Wanda, please.”

“Bruce, then.”

“Then lead on, Bruce.” Wanda hugged Clint again, and the shrunken agent didn’t seem to mind. They all made their way down to the lab where the debris of the laser array was spread out on white cloths across the vast floor, having been taken apart. Wanda, still carrying Clint, walked around the parts, bending over certain pieces. He hung at weird angles from her arms, to look down at what was going on. When she would bend down, he would hang down, stretching out his limbs in all directions.

“Must you do that, Barton?” Steve said. “What if she drops you?”

“Oh, Captain, I won’t drop him. I have Mommy arms. I had twins, actually. So, I can handle two of him, can’t I?” Wanda rubbed her cheek again Clint’s and he seemed to revel in it. No one noticed Natasha, trailing the group, staring daggers at Wanda, in her smart red leather blazer and red skinny jeans. Her shoes were also red, as was her purse. The blouse she wore was white and lacy, but it didn’t give her any of a maternal edge. Natasha was not impressed, even though they had worked together in the past.

The Captain, however, was thoroughly entranced, which made Natasha inwardly laugh a bit. Wait until you find out how old she is, thought the Widow.

“So, the readings Dr. Selvig got were temporal rather than positional, as if this could create a wormhole in time and space, not just current space. Is that correct?”

“Yes, very much,” Bruce said, falling under the spell. Tony stood back and waited. She would make a mistake, he knew.

“Well, I have the ability to control time, and I…”

“Wait, what?” Tony asked. “You can do what?”

The room had gone totally silent and all eyes rested on Wanda. Clint looked up at her and smiled. “Tell ‘em, Red.”

“Tony, we haven’t spoken or seen each other in a very long time, do I need to remind you? Not only do I have mutant abilities to control chaos magic, what some people would consider bad luck, I guess. But I have studied magic with others, and have found inherent traits in myself that can control more than just chaos. I can control all the elements, as well as actions and time. I have yet to control minds, but I leave that to others. I have no wish to change opinions or attitudes.”

“When you say you can control time, exactly what do you mean?” Bruce asked, replacing his glasses on his face and walking toward Wanda.

“I mean, I can reverse time. Go back to a certain event, and prevent it. But only on a small scale. I mean, I can’t go back and prevent the Kennedy assassination, or the Vietnam War, but this situation, since Phil was smart, and wouldn’t let the team out of the building, I can control this. It’s a small temporal pocket, not affecting anyone outside. If there were too many people, I wouldn’t be able to do it. Too many crossing time streams to rebuild. My magic is finite and I wouldn’t have enough.”

“Finite? I don’t understand. It’s not part of your being?” Thor asked. His culture was the closest to anyone’s of understanding what Wanda was saying. Asgard considered magic their science.

“Yes, it is. But I’m old, and I get tired easily, lately. Small tricks, like the way none of you can guess my age, that’s easy. I wear that every day. No one knows my true age. But when I perform larger tasks, depending on the structure and complexity, can wipe me out for a day or more.”

“I know how old you are,” Clint said, in the sing-songish way of children.

“And you’ll keep your trap shut if you know what’s good for you.”

“I’m not afraid of you!” he said.

“Oh no? I’m bigger, this time. And your fanny looks ripe for a beating! So, if you want to sit comfortably for the rest of the night, you’ll behave yourself.”

“I may like that,” he said, before he jumped out of her grasp with a flourish and a flip, then ran off.

“Keep it up, and I’ll turn you into a flying monkey!” she shouted after him.

“Ah, the ones from when my brother was here, that Fury mentioned?” Thor said with a big smile.

“The very same,” Steve said, flatly.

Wanda shook her head and smiled. “This is going to be fun, I think.”

When Wanda sat in the common room to chat with Clint, to see how he was really doing, Natasha, Steve and Darcy tagged along. Natasha didn’t want Clint out of her sight. Steve was drawn to Wanda. And Darcy was just drawn, partially to Steve, and some to Clint. She didn’t want him to think she didn’t care about him. She understood the 4-year-old temperament. She couldn’t say that she enjoyed his antics.

While they tried to talk about what choices were available, Tony, Bruce, Jane and Erik had gone back to try and give fixing the array one last try. As most four-year-olds are, Clint was not content to sit around and discuss things like how Steve was adjusting to his new life, something that Wanda was very familiar with, having come from rural Russia as a gypsy to bustling and busy New York City. They shared a little about having lived in Brooklyn, whereas Steve lived in Red Hook and Wanda and her brother lived with relatives in Brighton Beach. He was very interested in her past, paying rapt attention. And as predictable as Old Faithful, as soon as Natasha left the room to get a drink, Clint jumped up from his seat on the couch and shouted, “Floor is lava!”

With lightning speed, for a four-year-old, he ran over the back of the couch to the arm and jumped across to the chair where Darcy sat. “Hey, watch it, short stuff!”

He ran across her lap and onto the coffee table and across it, with a cartwheel for flair, which only impressed Wanda. 

“Barton!” shouted Steve. “Look, I know this is difficult, but really…”

From the other side of the room, Natasha walked back in, saw Clint, and began shouting in Russian, which distracted Clint, and he fell off the end of the table onto the hardwood floor. The thunk of his head was loud and truly sounded painful. But Clint made no sound. He rolled onto his side, into a ball and covered his face as best he could with his little hands. Everyone jumped up from their seats and went to him. Anyone who tried to touch him was swatted away, but Wanda could see the tears glistening on his face.

“OK, I’m taking you to your room, Clint. Let me, please,” Wanda crooned to him. “You know how I love to hold you.” He didn’t make it easy, but he allowed her to carry him to his room, burying his face in her neck. She shut the door and went straight to Clint’s bedroom, laying him down. That was when he let out a terrific wail of pain. He started to actively cry, which gave him the hiccups. Wanda sighed and went to the bathroom to get a wet washcloth for his face and a glass of water. He drank and calmed down, and Wanda washed the tears from his cheeks. 

“How’s your head, Pteech-ka?” she asked.

“I got a lump.”

“I know. Any blood? Dizzy? Seeing fine?”

“I’m OK, just…crying in front of everyone! And she didn’t need to be so mean, saying all those things.”

“You speak Russian?” Wanda asked, surprised.

“I always did. I’m little, not stupid.”

There was a knock on the door before Natasha walked in. She came right over to where Clint sat, and without asking, she gently took his chin and tilted his head back so she could look in his eyes. “Pupils are even.” She reached around his head and Clint reacted, pulling back in pain. “It’s not bleeding, but it’ll be a goose egg. I’m sorry, Clint. I didn’t want you to fall.”

“S’OK, Tash. I’m fine.”

He turned away and she just nodded and left the room. 

“You shouldn’t be so hard on her. There’s something in her that’s changed, and it probably started when you became little.”

It wasn’t surprising that Wanda had noticed. Everyone had noticed that Natasha had softened when she was dealing with Clint. 

“Yeah, but I’m just little! I’m still me! Everyone’s treating me like I’m actually fucking four! And especially her, she should know better. What’s the deal?”

Wanda took him into her lap and cuddled him close. “Pteech-ka, maybe she’s feeling parts of herself that she thought she’d stuffed down, or had been conditioned out of her. Some women never want to be mothers, but some do, and when circumstances don’t present themselves to allow it, they feel it’s a personal failure. Maybe Natasha wants to just enjoy the time with you like this, to see what motherhood would be like. And then she can make future decisions more carefully. And she loves you. It’s nice to have someone care this much about you, isn’t it?”

He snuggled further into her arms. “Yeah, I know. I never try and get used to the nice stuff. Cuz it sucks when it’s gone.”

“But it’s nice to have the memories, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, I guess. Can I lay down, or are you gonna freak out that I’ll die of a concussion?”

“No, I think it’s a good idea for you to get a nap. I’ll come get you before dinner.” She kissed his cheek and helped him get comfortable, before leaving him to return to the living room, and continue her conversation with Steve about Brooklyn and settling into the world.


	4. Chapter 4

By dinner time, Jane had returned to the common area and Pepper had food delivered so no one would have to leave. Even Coulson stayed for the group meal. They sat eating, slightly awkwardly until Clint had had enough.

“OK, so, what’s the fucking story, people? Am I staying little or what?” he stated, standing on the table by his plate.

“The language, Barton,” Steve said.

“It’s alright, Steve,” said Wanda. “I’ve heard him say worse. But he’s right. He should find out whether or not he can be returned to his normal state. He needs to know.”

“It’s just a little disconcerting to hear cursing from a 4-year-old.”

Wanda had turned to Bruce, Jane, Erik, and Tony. Leave it to Tony to find the least comforting way of explaining the science.

“Well, the laser array is fucked. It’s not going to be fixed. The calculations we made were wrong, so looks like shorty is going to be our newly adopted mascot. I mean, is there a market for baby Hawkeye stuff? Mini bows and arrows, a whole Nerf tie in. I think we can make some money off this if we act quickly before he starts to grow…”

“Fuck no! I want out of this! You fucking did this, now fix this!”

“Enough!” shouted Steve. “What do you mean you made the wrong calculations? I can’t see the four of you being so wrong. There must be something else going on.”

“I made the mistake,” Jane said. Her face was close to breaking into tears, but Thor took her hand and squeezed it. “Erik saw that I was factoring temporal physics, not quantum and I really should get more sleep.”

“No duh,” said Darcy, then smirked when everyone turned to her. “Well, for reals, what did she think she was, a Cullen? If you sparkle, I’m ripping your head off.”

Steve tilted his head to the side, another reference he didn’t get, and Wanda’s eyes twinkled. He needed someone to teach him, not just politics and history, but how to be in the world again. A plan began to form in Wanda’s head. A plan she hoped would work in the end. Plans always did have a way of unraveling.

The group finished their meal and moved into the common room, Tony passing out the whiskey liberally. He was forming his own plan. Wanda, not one to turn down two fingers of ten-thousand dollar scotch, had two glasses, enjoying them thoroughly. She kept Clint in her lap, because she knew he was dipping his little fingers into her glass and tasting the strong liquor.

“You need to stop that, Clint, or you’re going to make yourself sick,” she admonished. Big blue eyes looked up at her, but she could see one starting to droop, as the few drops of alcohol were fast acting on his small form.

“I think I’ll get this one to bed,” Natasha said, grabbing Clint under the arms and pulling him up against her. “You are going to be hung over in the morning.”

Tony had been watching Steve over the last few hours of Wanda visiting. The soldier out of time was usually quiet, stiff and boring. With Wanda about, he was attentive, excited, he was completely enamored of her. Tony could see that Steve wanted to do something, express some kind of emotion, but he was too much a boy scout and good man to come out and say anything, especially in front of the entire team. Steve was always the one to keep mum about everything.

“Oh, my goodness, it’s getting late,” Wanda said, looking at her watch. She set her glass down and started to stand up, but the alcohol went straight to her head and she lost her balance a moment. Steve, who had stood when she did, grabbed her about the waist and steadied her.

“Whoa there, ma’am, you sure you’re OK?” he asked, smiling.

Wanda reached out and put her hand on Steve’s chest, trying to steady herself, but feeling nothing but heat and muscle under the thin cloth of his shirt.

“I think I might have had too much to drink tonight. Oh, I have to go home, I have to feed the cat!”

“You can just magick yourself to your home, can’t you?” asked Thor. He was far smarter than anyone ever gave him credit for.

“Oh, not like this. I need to concentrate, and I can’t right now. Damn.”

“Ma’am, I’ll drive you home,” Steve said. He guided her to sit back down.

“No, I can’t leave my car here overnight, and how would you get back?” she said.

“Steve, pack a bag and stay overnight at Wanda’s place. Then, you can bring her back tomorrow, to fix everything.” It was said so innocently, so simply, one wouldn’t have known it was Tony saying it. Tony was never simple or innocent. He was complex and guilty. But this wasn’t what was going through Wanda’s head. All she wanted to do was get her behind back in the chair and stop the spinning.

"Tony, I think your scotch is super strong. I haven't had a buzz like this in a long time!"

"Well, it was specially chosen for you."

Wanda didn't like the sound of that. But she was happy that someone would get her home. She knew Sheba would NOT be happy if Mommy didn't come home to feed her. If only her sons were that close to her…

Steve nodded his head and helped Wanda back onto the couch. "Ma'am, just rest a moment. I'll get my kit together and I'll take you back to your home. Is that acceptable?"

"Why yes, Steven, thank you." She watched as he left the area and sighed. "JARVIS, please connect with my Land Rover so that Steven can have accurate directions to the house."

"Of course, Ms. Maximoff. It's my pleasure."

"JARVIS, one day you'll have to explain to me how a computer can have pleasure."

"One day, madam."

It wasn't long before Steve was back with his small backpack slung over one shoulder. Darcy had goaded him into getting it, and getting rid of the older bag he kept, a leftover from when he was in the army and a bit old fashioned looking. Although, he saw certain people enjoyed vintage items, as they were called, but Darcy informed him they were "hipsters" and douchebags. Although a lot of the items he sold through consignment stores brought in quite a bit of money.

When he looked these things up on his Stark-issued laptop, he was kind of shocked, and kind of not, at how the young woman spoke. He did know girls who talked rough, swore like sailors, but the nuns always told him those girls were trashy and carried diseases. And in Steve’s sickly state as a boy, this was a good deterrent.

But he did know that Darcy was steadfast friend and fierce protector or her friends. And that he had respect for, as well as her love of reading, research and learning. But he didn’t consider her any more than a friend. Not like the way he looked at Wanda. No, she was a woman that reminded him of the dames he’d known back in Brooklyn in the 40s. She truly was as red hot as the color she wore.

Carefully, Steve led Wanda to her SUV and then helped her into her seat, taking the time to secure her seatbelt. “Steven, you don’t have to do that. I’m capable of buckling myself in.”

“Ma’am, it’s my pleasure, and my duty as head of the Avengers to ensure the safety of all team members.”

Wanda just shook her head. He went around the front and into the driver’s seat, looking around in surprise as the seat began to move itself, backward and down to make him more comfortable.

“What the…” he said, hands up like he was being mugged.

“That’s JARVIS moving the seat for you. He’s fully integrated into all my vehicles. Tony blusters about me, but he is quite generous.”

“Wait!” came a shout from behind them. 

“Speak of the devil,” said Steve.

“And up he jumps in a white nightgown,” finished Wanda. Steve looked at her and smiled. He remembered that old musical cartoon from the movies when he would go with Bucky, who would be chatting with some girl.

Tony came running over, carrying a thermos. “I forgot this, for when you get home. Some coffee, decaf, and soothing. It’ll help the head for the morning. And even Steve can appreciate the flavor, too.”

The smile on Tony’s face was almost too good to be true. Steve was always a little skeptical of Tony, but the man was his old friend’s son. There had to be a little of Howard somewhere in there, the Howard that Steve knew. Not the man Howard became after the crash.

“Why did you run all the way down here, Tony?” Steve asked, reaching across Wanda and taking the thermos.

“Oh, you know, didn’t want to bother Happy, and there’s…really no other staff here. So, I came down myself.”

“You could have sent Darcy, you know,” Wanda said, voice coming from deep in her chest, carrying a meaning she hoped Tony understood.

“I need Miss Lewis upstairs.” His face went hard for a moment. Then it was gone and his smile was back.

Wanda’s head still swirled and she let it go. “Steven, please, let’s just go.”

Tony winked at Steve, and stepped back to allow him to drive the SUV out of the garage and into the New York City night. Steve was thankful for JARVIS’ directions once they got over the George Washington Bridge and into the New Jersey traffic. He laughed to himself.

“What’s so funny, Steven?” Wanda asked.

“I’ve driven all over Europe, or had, on a motorcycle, in a jeep, in a tank. But this is something I’ll never understand: New Jersey drivers.”

“Hey, this is where I learned to drive. Don’t knock it. We have our own motor vehicle poetry.”

He smiled at that, motor vehicle poetry. She spoke like a gal from his time, didn’t make him feel so out of place, so out of his element. Some people who did actually didn’t do it on purpose, and Darcy came to mind. He knew that’s just how she was. She spoke to him like he was everyone else, and expected him to just get it. While sometimes it annoyed him that he didn’t just get it, he liked that she didn’t talk to him like he just got off the boat from Stupidville. 

The turn into the driveway of the modest house on Magnolia Place was gentle and Steve sat a moment after stopping the engine, just looking over at the woman seemingly asleep in the seat beside him. He’d always dreamed of doing this with Peggy, seeing her big and pregnant, maybe a sleeping blonde or two in the backseat. But no, his life was so different now, and he didn’t really want to think about Peggy anymore. No, the perfectly styled dark hair was replaced by rich auburn hair that was curly and wild, framing a face that had no age, containing green eyes that stared right through him.

“Steven, we should go inside. I’m waiting for you to come around and open my door,” she said quietly.

“Oh, I’m sorry!” he said quickly. He jumped out and ran over to her door, opening it and holding his hand out to assist her out. She took it gently, her palm warm and soft. He missed touching a soft hand. His had been very soft before he changed, and then with being in the war, and now being very active with his sparring, training and working on his bike in Tony’s garage, he had many calluses on his fingers and palms, especially his trigger finger. But he could think about that later.

It was something interesting when Wanda slipped her hand into the crook of Steve's elbow and pulled him close to her side. Steve smiled down at her warmly. A cool breeze blew at their back, causing Wanda to shiver a bit. 

“We should get inside. The suburbs get quite chilly at night in the early spring.”

“And we have hot coffee,” Steve reminded her. He had the thermos in the crook of his other elbow.

“Ah, yes. The infamous coffee. Well, then we should do a dessert spread before we go to bed. Which will be better for me, with all this alcohol in me.”

“Well, it’s early, too,” Steve said, smiling. He followed Wanda to her door and waited while she unlocked it and entered, turning off the security alarm and switching on the lights.

“Come in, Steven. Just close the door behind you.”

“So the cat doesn’t get out, I guess,” he said, closing the large, ornate front door.

“Oh, she never goes out, do you, Sheba?” she said in the kitchen. Steve followed the sound of her voice and found Wanda scooping wet food into a dish, with a waiting cat sitting on the counter, tail flicking away.

“I had a neighbor down the hall from me that had a cat, when I was a little boy, before Ma died. She hated me, that rotten cat. Scratched me every time I tried to pet her.”

“What a mean animal!” Wanda said. “Sheba is very nice, but wait until she’s done eating. It’s just polite.”

Wanda turned to a cabinet and pulled out a pot and began bringing things out of other cabinets, then pulled a bowl of fruit from the refrigerator. She put a slicing board before Steve, a knife, then a couple of bananas. “Make some thick slices, like an inch thick, please. Then I’ll get you started on the strawberries. Wash your hands first.”

Steve did as she said and sat on a nice, comfortable stool at the breakfast bar while he sliced the bananas for her. “What are we having?”

“Fondue. You ever did this?” 

When someone describes a blush from someone’s neck to the roots of their hair, Wanda will always think of Steven Rogers’ reaction to her question. She put two mugs on the counter and poured out Tony’s special coffee to take a healthy drink before settling on melting the chocolate in the fondue pot.

“Actually, that’s kind of a funny story…” he began and told her about Peggy and Howard and his grand mistake and accusation. Wanda nodded along, stirring the chocolate as it slowly melted, adding milk and some spices. When Steve was done, face as red as some of the strawberries, he looked up at her, big blue eyes shining.

“I knew that story, actually,” she admitted. “Howard told it to me years ago. It’s why I wondered if you had ever actually had the real thing, at least the dessert version.”

Steve’s face fell a little. “So, my incredibly self-deprecating story didn’t impress you?” he asked gently.

“The way you told it did.”

The blush crept up his neck and colored his cheeks all the way to his ears. “Thank you, ma’am.”

“Oh, I told you, you can’t call me that! Makes me feel old.”

Wanda stirred the chocolate, watching it until it was just right, and brought the inner bowl to where Steve was still coring strawberries. He wiped his hands on a tea towel and took the long, thin fork she offered him. Then, with rapt attention, he watched as she speared a strawberry and dipped it into the chocolate, swirling it a bit before pulling it out to bite into the still-wet treat.

“You don’t wait for the chocolate to cool?” he asked.

“No, it’s not so hot that it burns. Low temperature melting chocolate. All made for this. I haven’t shared my fondue in a very long time.”

Steve tried a piece of banana and was impressed. “Chocolate has changed since…back then. It’s sweeter. And creamier. And they put a lot of stuff in it.”

“I think that’s a metaphor for the entire late 20th and current century. More and bigger and faster and sweeter and me! Me! Me! There was a saying in the 1980’s: he who dies with the most toys wins.”

“I don’t quite get it…”

“Neither do I, Steven, neither do I.”

He watched intensely as she swirled another strawberry in the chocolate and brought it up to her mouth, this time with her hand. The red nail polish she wore matched the red of the ripened berry. She even still wore the rich red lipstick that also matched, not a stroke out of place. Steve sipped at his coffee and was entranced by her mouth, as she chewed the piece of strawberry. A little speck of chocolate had dripped on her lip and he was fixated on it.

“You have…” he started and waved randomly at his mouth, then hers.

“What?” she asked.

“Your mouth is…it’s…”

He reached out and swiped the bit of chocolate from her lip, but before he could wipe his thumb on the tea towel, Wanda took hold of his hand and slowly, eyes never leaving Steve’s, her tongue snuck out to steal the sweetness from his skin. She pulled back and looked up, seeing the surprise in his eyes, but then something else took over.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s gotten into me,” Wanda fairly purred. She brought the cup of coffee to her lips again and let another swallow slide over her tongue. The coffee was still fairly hot, which was surprising given the amount of time between when they’d gotten the coffee and when they’d gotten back to the house. Then again, Tony could make a thermos that would keep coffee piping hot forever, probably.

“Wanda, it’s not a problem in the least,” he said, sipping from his own cup, eyes not leaving hers. The air felt heavy around him, lit with static electricity, but perfumed like the room was full of blooms in spring. Something was in that coffee, surely.

Wanda stood looking up at Steve, into the deep blue of his eyes, not seeing his mouth coming down closer and closer to her. He was kissing her before she had the chance to stop him, and then didn’t want to, when his soft, warm lips first tentatively touched hers. Wanda pulled back and touched her mouth.

“I…ma’am, I’m sorry,” he said, pulling back a bit, but not looking away.

“I’m not,” she said back.

The smile was gentle before that lush, young mouth was back on hers, stronger than before, commanding the kiss, tongue demanding entry to her mouth, which she allowed immediately. A strong hand came up to the back of her head to hold her to him, but there was no danger of her going anywhere. Steve’s other hand had come to rest on Wanda’s lower back, but she felt it move, slide down to her ass to squeeze one full cheek. This brought their hips together, and the fullness of his erection pressing on her was her undoing. Her arms wound around his neck, and fingers sliding into his hair electrified Steve into action.

With lightning speed, both of Steve’s hands came around Wanda’s rear end, and lifted her against him, without his mouth leaving the spot on her neck he’d begun to explore. He walked her towards the dining room and sat her on the table in front of him. His mouth traveled around her neck, tasting the soft flesh there, tickling her with the bit of stubble that was growing in. Slowly, she felt herself laid backward by his large, muscular body bent over her as his mouth traveled south to the v-neck of her blouse.

Wanda knew this was the last thing she should be doing, making love to a young man who for all intents and purposes was the same age as her sons, but it didn’t matter. She’d been alone for far too long, and needed this night, needed once more to feel wanted, young and beautiful. And no one and nothing would take that from her.

Hands came up to still Steve, pushing his shoulders up a bit as Wanda reached for the hem of her white blouse to bring it up over her head. The red lace bra stood out against her soft, pale skin. Immediately, both of Steve’s hands went to her breasts, covering and squeezing them gently. His face went to the cleft between them, and he licked a stripe up to her chin.

“Jesus, Steven, you’re going to kill me.”

“I had planned on making love to you,” he said quietly, mouth pressed to the shell of her ear. The heat of his breath brought a shiver up her spine, hardening her nipples. His hand pulled the lace of a cup aside and his mouth took it in, sucking hard on her constricted flesh. Her back bowed up and brought her in greater contact with his body.

“No, not on my table. The bedroom, Steven.”


	5. Chapter 5

His smile was that of a naughty schoolboy before he pulled her against him and scooped her ass up again. This time, Wanda wrapped her legs around his waist and she squeezed tight. Using a bit of magic, Wanda directed Steve as he walked her to the bedroom, but made him turn and back toward her bed. She made the throw pillows fly into the corner as Steve sat on the edge and slid his hands down to take hold her hips.

“I…I don’t know what’s come over me, Wanda,” he whispered against the skin of her chest, tongue tickling at her collar bones. “I want you.”

“Took the words right out of my mouth,” she said before pushing him down. Her hands grabbed at the two halves of his shirt and she pulled them apart to tear it open, spattering buttons onto the bed and carpet. She smiled as he sat up and pulled his shirt off, then slipped the white t-shirt underneath from his body. The smooth expanse of his chest was exposed, with well-defined muscles and no hair to be seen except what peeked from below his navel at his belt line. She slowly ran her hands up and down his chest, enjoying every inch of warm skin she could reach, loving how Steve lay back with his arms over his head. 

Wanda stood up from the bed, standing between Steve’s spread legs, unbuttoning her red jeans and sliding them down her legs. She’d long since kicked off her shoes, the red suede peep toe platforms that she adored, and only now wished she still had them. They would be daringly sexy, but she didn’t need to completely kill her lover this night, with visual stimulus. Standing before him in only the red bikini panties that matched her bra, she saw the lust and appreciation in his expression as he sat up to watch her. His hands moved to his pants, one hand to cover his erection and press into it. Wanda pushed his hands away and made quick work of his fly to start sliding his jeans down his legs, taking the boxer briefs with them. His erection sprung up, slapping his belly before bouncing back and standing at attention for her.

“How nice, you’re ready for me,” she said. She popped open the catch of her bra at the back and wiggled out of the garment. Steve’s breath caught a moment, and when she hooked her thumbs in her panties to whisk them down her legs, Steve sighed hugely, falling back on the bed. Wanda crawled up the bed and sat just below his cock on his thighs. She was wet, so wet that it smeared his skin when she undulated, causing Steve’s face to contort in pleasure. 

“Now, Wanda, now, I need you now,” he begged.

She went up on her knees and slid down his cock, fitting him insider her like puzzle pieces locking in place. His heat speared through her body, right up her spine. She waited a moment before shifting her hips a bit, swirling her body around him and getting his hardness to touch all of her insides. She braced both of her hands on his chest as she brought herself up to the tip of him, then slowly lowered herself again, flush against him. She looked down at her body, where she rested against him, his golden light brown curls mingling with her ginger brown hair, and she felt the shiver go through him. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he said. “I can’t believe…”

“Believe it, Steven. It’s true.”

She began moving on him, steady and slow at first, then as she felt his hips moving with her, she began rotating her hips, trying to get more contact with him. Steve was a smart man, and more experienced than anyone gave him credit for, as his hand slid down and he rubbed his thumb on her clit. It was what she needed, to get her to the crest of pleasure and push her over, shooting sparks on her skin, contracting her pussy around him and squeezing him just right.

“Shit, I’m coming!” he shouted before he grabbed her hips and held her in place as he slammed his body up into her and then stopped abruptly. She could feel his cock jerking inside her, feel his come warm her insides as his eyes opened wide and his teeth clenched. Wanda slid down onto him, resting against his chest as they both came down and calmed. Steve’s arms slipped around her body, gently cuddling her with warmth as their breathing slowed.

Wanda sat up and stretched her arms over her head, feeling all the muscles moving smoothly.

“Oh my God,” Steve breathed quietly. “You’re so beautiful.”

Giggles poured forth from Wanda’s lips and she reached up to cover her breasts, suddenly shy. “I will be back in a minute. You just lie there and relax.”

Wanda stood from the bed and walked slowly to the en suite bathroom. She closed the door behind her, and looked in the mirror. She expected to see an old, wrinkled mother of two who was shagging a boy half her age. What she DID see was a vibrant woman whose cheeks were rosy, whose eyes were bright, and whose disheveled hair looked even better than usual. Whether it was her own magic or just what was flowing around the house, she wouldn’t argue. She felt beautiful and young again, and wouldn’t let that feeling go for the world.

After she freshened up a bit and slipped on her red silk kimono, she went out to Steve, who’d sat up and pulled the comforter down on the bed. He turned towards her and held the blanket up to block his body. Wanda walked past him to sit at her dressing table on the other side of the room.

“You can clean up if you want, Steven,” she said, sitting down. Steven would understand this, the woman going to her dressing table. The dressing table was an antique from the 19th century, and it was something she treasured as a luxury.

“I’ll be right out,” he mumbled and then closed the bathroom door behind him. Wanda happily watched his bottom through the mirror as he left the room, enjoying the play of muscles under his skin. He closed the door quickly, but not before catching Wanda’s eye and smiling back at her.

As she reached for the silver-handled brush on her vanity, Wanda thought about all the cliché movie moments where a woman did the same thing. But it seemed to fit. She pulled the brush through her hair, calming the riot of curls into smooth waves. The weight of the day, and the evening, pressed on her shoulders. She sat up and let the magic slide away for just a moment, and the wrinkles settled around her eyes, and the streaks of gray shot through her hair. 

She heard the door start to open, and quickly put herself back together. She looked up to see Steve settling into the bed, arranging the covers on himself. He looked over at her and smiled, his features soft. “Why don’t you come to bed?” he asked.

“That sounds like a splendid idea,” she answered and stood from her dressing table. She strode to the bed and slipped her kimono from her shoulders. The sharp inhale from Steve brought a smile to her lips and she slipped under the covers that he held up for her. Immediately, Wanda pressed herself to Steve’s side, soaking in the natural warmth of all the heat-generating muscle of his body. His arm came around her shoulders as she fitted herself to him, her breasts making contact with his soft skin and nipples pebbling in response.

“You are so warm, Steven,” she purred.

“Comes with the territory. Something I rather like now. Cold isn’t my thing.”

“I can imagine. Even before the Arctic Ocean crash.”

“You know about me?”

“I’ve read about it, spoke with Peggy Carter. She told me all about you, before the serum. She loved you then, you know.”

“Yeah, I know. I loved her, then. I wish we had more time together.”

“Was she your first? Or was I…”

“You? No, ma’am. Um…” Wanda felt the blush in Steve’s skin as he looked away and smiled. 

“You can tell me.” Wanda stroked a soft hand down Steve’s smooth chest, somewhat calming and not enticing. She rested her hand on his stomach and could feel his breathing slow as he started to feel more comfortable.

“Well, I did…have a girl on the USO tour. Sort of. Her name was Violet Johnson. She was one of the girls who sat on the motorcycle I hoisted over my head. She always joked that one day, she’d lose her balance and fall. I told her I wouldn’t ever let her get hurt. Well, one night, after a show, we both went for an ice cream soda. Which I notice no one drinks anymore…”

“We’re all very health conscious these days. A moment on the lips, a lifetime on the hips…”

“True. Well, she let me hold her hand as we walked back to the hotel we were staying in, and after that, we just kinda talked a lot on the bus. I was supposed to sit all the way up front, but because the ladies’ chaperone was sitting just behind us, she was allowed to sit next to me in the light hours. It was all very proper back then.”

“And what happened?”

“One night, she got scared of a really bad storm, and came to my room. Her house had been hit by lightning when she was a little girl, burned down killing her sister and her dog.”

“How terrible!” Steve’s arm tightened a bit around her shoulders, and a feeling of security from the man floated over her. She slid her hand up to cover the warm skin and muscle over his beating heart, feeling the slow thump and letting it soothe her.

“Well, we sat across the room from each other, I mean, it was a small room, but I wanted it to be proper and all. I didn’t…you know, want her to think I was gonna jump her. But the lightning flashed and the lights went out, and she was in my arms when we both jumped up from our places…and that was it. We kissed, and she held onto me, and my pajamas just fell off…”

“Oh they did, did they?” The words dripped of sarcasm, bringing a laugh from Steve that Wanda could feel down to her own toes.

“I didn’t pull her down on the bed, and I didn’t pull her robe and night dress off. But the panties were my fault. Panties used to be a lot bigger back then, too.”

“Bloomers, dear, I think they called them.”

“I’m guessing. Well, we were together for a while. A couple of times, actually. Both of our firsts, but she knew quite a bit. I did cuz Bucky never shut the hell up. And…well, the chaperone was looking for her in the morning, because they were doing a head count after the blackout, and they found us. And found her torn bloomers on my floor.” There was a note of regret in Steve’s voice, the low timbre changing his entire being in a few words.

“And?”

“And she was dismissed from the tour. Sent home, in disgrace, because everyone found out. I was so ashamed of myself. Even though they found us curled up together, you know, gentle and all, someone made up this rumor I forced her. And all the girls, while they didn’t really believe it, the chaperone would sit at my door at night, until she was sure all the girls had gone to bed. Then they got some goon to do it, make sure no one came to my room. It was pretty awful.”

“I’m so sorry, Steven. Anyone who knows you knows that you are the most decent man in the world. That’s just unfair.” Wanda pulled closer to him, pressing her cheek to his chest. Her lips met his skin, the heat of them seeping in, like a wanted burn.

“Well, it was…you know, the last time, until tonight. I didn’t want to do that to any other woman, not until she was my wife. I mean, back then, it was…”

“It was different than it is now. You missed the sexual revolution, where men and women decided that they didn’t want to be judged because they wanted to make each other feel good. It was an interesting time. But nowadays, it’s not damaging to your reputation to enjoy sex. Believe me, when we go back to the tower tomorrow…”

“Oh God, Tony is going to have a field day…”

“And I’ll seal the skin of his mouth shut. He’ll need surgery to speak ever again. Or a straight razor…”

The emphatic tone of Wanda’s threat made Steve chuckle. “You’d do that for me?” he asked, kissing her forehead.

“For us, yes. You think I want that man torturing me as well? Not at all…”

Steve settled back and exhaled, closing his eyes and smiling gently. Then his eyes popped open wide and he sat up straight in bed, taking the comforter with him. “Oh my God! We didn’t use a…thing…”

“A condom? Oh, Steven, relax!” she said, with a wide smile on her face. “I can’t have children, not anymore. And I don’t think there’s a virus that would last more than a few minutes in your body. And I’m not…”

“No, I wasn’t implying you’d be…carrying…I just…things still are very different. Doin’ my best, ma’am.” 

Eyes met, and Steve leaned down to kiss Wanda’s soft lips again, stroking a hand through her hair. His large hand buried itself in her curls and he pulled her up to him. Much slower than before, he learned the curves and contours of her lips and mouth, taking time to taste her deeply and thoroughly. She pulled him on top of her, over her, letting him steer them, where to touch her, to kiss her, to lick skin and suck a nipple into his mouth. To slide down her body and pepper her soft belly with kisses, worshipping her shape as something he was more familiar with, than the stick-thin models and actresses that wanted his attention.

“You belong painted on the nosecone of a B-52,” he said, before burying his nose in the curls between her thighs. Wanda had to reach up and grab the headboard as the tongue exploring her almost caused her to press his face into her flesh. Steve alternated tickling her with the tip of his tongue, bringing her close to the edge, then backing her down by using the wide flat of his tongue to soothe her. But he didn’t tease her for long, bringing her over once, then again. Before he could do it a third time, she pulled him up to kiss him and taste herself on his lips.

“You are amazing, Steven,” she said, sliding one leg over his hip, using her foot to massage his rear.

“You ain’t seen nothin’ yet!” he said, diving down to her mouth for another soul-deep kiss. They made love that night several more times, warding off sleep as much as they could. While Steve didn’t need it so much, Wanda did, but she didn’t care. Having a young man worshipping her between her legs was something she’d missed in her life. 

They both proved rather nimble, and Wanda even surprised Steve by taking him in her mouth, bringing him off and swallowing him down. It was something Bucky’d told him girls did, and he almost had one Italian whore go down on him, but he couldn’t. To have it with Wanda made it special. He fought with himself not to hold her head in place and just thrusting into her hot, wet mouth, and settled on stroking her hair and neck. He loved going down on her again, making her shiver and jiggle, which he loved watching.

About an hour before sunrise, they both settled in each other’s arms to sleep, legs tangled together. Steve had always thought those were just pretty words to describe a couple sleeping, but to lie there with someone he cared about, holding her, curling his body around hers and she doing the same, it felt right. He didn’t feel guilt, or shame. Only contentment.


	6. Chapter 6

When Wanda finally did wake, it was late morning. She was alone in the bed, but she could hear Steve puttering around the kitchen. She could smell the steam from her bathroom, so he’d woken, showered and probably dressed to make breakfast. She nodded and yawned. Donning her kimono, she went to the kitchen and made a straight line to the coffee maker.

“Good morning, sleepy head,” he said softly. He was sitting at the kitchen bar, having cleaned it from the night before, and was reading her morning paper while eating a HUGE breakfast.

“And good morning to you, sweet sir. I’m glad you served yourself. Did you leave me any eggs? I only bought the dozen the day before.”

Steve smiled guiltily. “Yes, there’re eggs for you. But there’s still warm bacon and pancakes in the oven. I like your kitchen. Your stuff is easier to use than Tony’s stuff. It’s all ramped up and most of the appliances have AIs in them that Tony has JARVIS run. It’s weird.”

“Well, thank you. I really appreciate you making breakfast.” Wanda sipped coffee as she looked at the young man, sitting at her kitchen bar, reading the local paper, sipping his own coffee and finishing his toast like he belonged there. And he didn’t. He was too young. Barely five years older than her own sons, and they didn’t speak to her much. No, he didn’t belong here. And she knew what to do.

“It was Tony’s coffee,” she said.

“What?” he asked. The rustle of him putting the paper down grated on her skin.

“Tony spiked the coffee. He must have wanted you to have sex. Or me. Or to embarrass us. I don’t know which. But we should not have had sex. I’m sorry, Steven. As wonderful as it was, you know as well as I do, that was a massive mistake for us.”

The boy wore his heart on his sleeve, and the massive weight of his emotions ran across his face like a movie showing his thoughts on a screen. Hurt, confusion, pain, anger, resentment, all the best feelings, and the worst.

“Do you really think I’m a mistake?” he asked, grinding the words out.

“No, not at all. But I am. I’m too old for you, for this. This…is so…”

“Comfortable? Normal? Waking up with someone…”

“Someone you love? Do you love me, Steven? Is what you said last night about not wanting to have sex with a woman until you were married a lie? We didn’t make love, don’t make that mistake. We had sex. And it was wonderful. But it was just sex. And you have a lot of life ahead of you, regardless of what you think. Or thought.”

Steve dropped his head. He let all the thoughts wash over him, go through him. And he started to think about the situation, not feel about it. But to really think. Use the tactical side of his brain, the side that learned how to fly that jet quickly, and remember all the Hydra bases, and how to fix that electrical panel just from Tony talking him through it. He was a smart man. He got the flag without exerting an ounce of extra energy, and no one had ever done that. And he knew Wanda was right.

So, he did what a real man would do. A real smart man, that is. He got up, walked to where she stood by the stove, took the mug from her hand, and kissed her. Not just a peck, but a real kiss, a deep kiss you felt down to your toes. He swept his tongue across hers briefly, holding her tightly. He pulled back, and held her for another moment, her face against his neck and his nose buried in her hair. Then he stepped back, and said, “I’ll scramble you a couple of eggs, then when you’re done eating, I’ll clean up while you get ready to go back. Then, I think we need to seriously consider fixing the problem with Clint. I need my eyes in the sky back. If anyone finds out I’ve lost my marksman, the Avengers will have a serious issue in our next battle.”

“I see what you mean, Steven. That sounds like a good idea.”

And it was settled. And they ended their time together that morning pleasantly. Neither would mention their night together again, and Wanda would find some way to pay Tony back. Something needed to happen because while playing with people’s actions was one thing, playing with Steve’s feelings was quite another.

The ride back to the tower was quiet, but Wanda drove this time, because she wanted to think. She knew she was back to almost 100% and was feeling very powerful. All she needed to do was to contain the situation and then send it all back. That could be done. She knew she could.

Then Steve’s phone rang. He answered and was very brief and businesslike. “That was Agent Coulson. He asked that we meet him at the front of the tower on 45th street. He would have someone take your car into the garage.”

“Of course, I can do that.”

She drove through Manhattan with ease, which she could tell impressed Steve, through midday traffic and deliveries. As requested, they pulled up in front of Avengers Tower, where Coulson and a Stark Tower garage attendant stood waiting for them. The attendant took the car from her, gently gliding it to the ramp for the underground parking garage. Steve stood on the sidewalk waiting with Wanda and Coulson.

“Captain Rogers, would you mind going up without us, please? I must speak with Agent Maximoff about several things before we join the team.” Coulson was his usual calm, quiet self. Steve looked at Wanda’s face, then down at Coulson.

“Of course, I’ll see you both upstairs,” he said quietly, before walking away. He looked back at Wanda only once, and she held up her hand briefly, as if to say, “All is well.”

When Steve’s back had disappeared in the building, she turned to Coulson. “Thank you, Phillip. I was concerned about how we were going to get them into the building together. I shouldn’t be up there. I wasn’t originally and it will confuse them.”

“And you wouldn’t remember your evening, would you?” he said, quietly.

“And what do you know of my evening?” she asked. Wanda looked at her long-time friend.

“I know that Stark will suffer somehow for what he put in that coffee. And that you will wipe it from his mind.”

“You scare me sometimes, Phil.”

He smiled. “Why did you go along with it?” he asked.

“Because…I wanted to feel beautiful one more time.”

“Wanda, you will always be beautiful, no matter your age. You are the kind of woman who will only get better with time.” Phil took her hand and kissed the back.

“Thank you. And now, for the magic!” she stated firmly and raised her hands dramatically. Then laughed. “As if I need to move my hands.” Long ago, in her studies with Agatha Harkness, Wanda learned to cast magic without words or movements, to keep her opponents ignorant of her actions. And it was prudent to do the same here on the street in busy midtown Manhattan. After a few moments, she took a deep breath and said, “Shall we go upstairs? It should all be done. It will happen in about…four hours. So, we need to get up there and stop it from happening.”

“After you, my lady. Though, one question: why did you want to wipe Rogers’ mind?”

“This memory is for me, not him. Besides, I think there’s a different person he should be seeing. And it’s right under his nose. You could help you know?” Wanda and Coulson smiled at each other and led the way up to the common kitchen in the tower. It was just about lunch time, and Coulson called them all to get together for a “team lunch” that he would have delivered after introducing Wanda. 

When Wanda walked in, everyone turned to her, including adult-sized Clint, who made a bee-line to her.

“Hey, Red! How you doing? Been a long time. Guys, this is my…what the hell are we? Friend, Wanda Maximoff. She…we…anyway, she was with SHIELD but she’s in reserve now, codename: Scarlet Witch. What’re you doing here, babe?” He hugged her again and lifted her off her feet, twirling her around. He rested his hands on her shoulders and looked down in her eyes.

“It’s been a while, Clint. It’s so good to see you. You’ve never looked better.” Her words were quiet, but true. Then she turned to the group and said, “Oh my! Natasha! How wonderful to see you! Thankfully, Phil has the smartest agent running things around here.”

Wanda made her way to where Natasha stood, where she had hung back to observe, but accepted Wanda’s embrace.

“” Wanda said in Russian to Natasha.

“”

“Hey, none of that Russian jazz. It’s rude to everyone else.” Clint was smiling so he wasn’t quite angry.

Tony bumped Clint’s arm and said, “How can I get you to twirl me around like that?”

“Buy me a drink first.”

“Such hard work!”

“But worth it.”

“Oh my God, Tony, you got Clint to quote Doctor Who? I can’t wait to see if you get Steve to quote Stargate next!” came the voice of Darcy from the doorway, preceding Jane, Erik and Bruce. All new introductions were made, and Coulson started to speak, when Steve entered the room, hair combed and wet from his shower and wearing a smart shirt and freshly pressed slacks. His black loafers were shined to a mirror finish.

“I’m sorry I’m late, I was…in disposed.”

“You were in the shower,” Darcy said, causing Steve to blush.

“Stop flirting, Little Bit, you’ll make Cap spontaneously combust,” Clint said, taking a seat at the counter bar.

“Ok, everyone stop everything!” Wanda said, loudly. “Phil and I are here to see something, I guess, and then lunch is coming. So, how about you show me that machine you’re making, since apparently I’m going to be working with the Avengers soon, in a way, and I want to see how far away you are from the laser array to rebuild the Bifrost.”

“Yes, Captain Rogers, would you come with us? Clint, you and Natasha don’t need to come down, we’re fine.” Coulson gave Clint a look that conveyed the need for Clint to obey, which he did. They’d worked together long enough that they had a non-verbal short hand between them. The team went down to the main lab and looked at the machine and all the calculations. Coulson looked at Steve’s face, a mask of confusion. “Darcy, you understand this, somewhat. Can you spend some time with Captain Rogers catching him up on this project? He’s read the official reports of what happened in New Mexico, but you were an eye witness. You should give him the benefit of your expertise.”

Wanda patted Coulson’s shoulder when he rejoined her and in his ear she whispered, “You read my mind, sweet man. They belong together. She’ll give him experience, he’ll ground her. They’re perfect for each other.”

“I knew that ages ago, Wanda. I’ve been trying ever since.”

“Agent, do you and Glinda have something to share with the class?” Tony said.

“How do you know I’m a good witch, Tony? I could be hiding my ruby slippers from you.”

“I’ll just have to drop a house on you and see.”

Wanda walked over and poked him in the side a bit. She put her hand on the laser array, and with the group far behind she and Tony, she called up a wave of her chaos hex magic and forced it down into the machine. It began to smoke, a few flames shot up and Wanda quickly backed away. Dummy and U came rolling over with their fire extinguishers to put out whatever was burning.

“Oh God!” shouted Jane. “This is impossible! We’ve been working for ages…”

“And the work was wrong, Jane, I’ve been trying to tell you. Your calculations are wrong.” Erik was very clear in his words. “I knew something like this would happen, or worse! You could have hurt someone. But we can start fresh. And Stark, you need to put more time in here with Jane and Dr. Banner. Then things like this wouldn’t happen, yes?”

“Yep. Let’s take this puppy apart and see what went wrong, and maybe get a couple of real astrophysics interns in here. Hey, Lewis, you stick with Stars and Stripes, we can get someone else in here, OK?” Tony seemed to smile at the thought of the young woman keeping his father’s friend company.

“What?” she shouted. “I’m fired? Just like that? Jane!” Darcy turned to Jane, who was talking with Erik about the notes. 

“Well, I …can you help me with my new computer? I mean, I’m getting the hang of it, but there’s so much I need to be doing with SHIELD and I don’t think I have the time to take a class.”

“Phil, can we get Darcy SHIELD credentials? I mean, she has enough knowledge to warrant Level 3 clearance. She can be my assistant in liaison for the Avengers Initiative.” Wanda folded her arms and smiled at her quick thinking.

“Liaison? Agent, what is she talking about?” Tony shouted, coming over from the far side of the lab to where they stood.

Coulson sighed heavily. “Stark, you would have heard at lunch. I’m being reallocated…”

“Re-what?” Steve asked.

“Transferred, Captain. To another division. And Ms. Maximoff will be taking over in my stead. And I’m sure you will all get along just fine.”

“Why wasn’t I consulted?” Steve demanded.

“Hey, Cap, it’s OK, you know? Agent iPod probably didn’t have a choice,” Darcy said, quietly.

“We’re a team, and this…” Steve said, turning to Darcy. Her gentle smile stopped him short.

“We can still be a team, Steve,” Darcy reasoned. “Just…new players. I mean, sometimes players are benched, on the DL, traded to other teams, sent to the farm. It happens. So, maybe they need Son of Coul in triple-A, that doesn’t mean we need to lose Jeter, right?”

Steve’s eyes went wide. His smile followed. She knew about baseball. 

“Ladies and gentlemen, lunch has arrived and is being served in the formal dining room,” came the gentle voice of JARVIS over the hidden speakers. 

“Shall we?” Coulson said, holding a hand out towards the door.

Steve and Darcy led the way up to the dining room. Coulson waited with Wanda until the room was almost empty. “This isn’t going to be easy, Wanda. Are you positive you want to do this?”

“Phil, I can’t put it off any longer. Besides, if I’m going to help my boys, I have to get out of New Jersey.”

“Will you tell the team the truth about them?”

“That they weren’t real? And then they were? And they weren’t mine? But they were? How do I start?”

“At the beginning.”

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked this first bit. There's more to come, and it's going to be pretty exciting. I'm big on redemption. So there's someone coming.


End file.
